worship - rich homie quan lyrics
[intro]
i’ve been known, i love ya’ll for this
i wouldn’t wear it tho
i know father died, mother died, got me?
130 the producer
ayyy, rich i’m baby
[chorus]
15 thousand will get your partner knocked off
16 thousand for them styled, tailored car bombs
18, i was stealin’ mama’s money out her top drawer
i could not get knocked off
so, you know i had to grind
so my folks won’t have to work not more
still goin’ in, made a promise, we wouldn’t hurt no more
goin’ to church on sundays, what you worship for?
[verse 1]
i was in the court
they thought i wasn’t gon’ dip
used to hide money at my mama’s house
she didn’t know it was in her crib
i can’t give no f*cks no more, i gotta tell them how i feel
i can’t show no love no more, they gonna stab me once again
family in my business tryna see what i done spent
you can’t offer me nothing and i don’t need no new friends
i won’t cover my tongue ’cause i don’t care who i offend
turn a l to a win
turn a player to a pimp
everything double g on my end
these b*tches tryna cuddle me in my benz
n*ggas tryna break me knowing i won’t bend
and i tell that’s how the story goes
and i came here just to vent
and i hope you can understand
(what about the critics bro?)
i won’t let ’em in
[chorus]
15 thousand will get your partner knocked off
16 thousand for them styled, tailored car bombs
18, i was stealin’ mama’s money out her top drawer
i could not get knocked off
so, you know i had to grind
so my folks won’t have to work not more
still goin’ in, made a promise, we wouldn’t hurt no more
goin’ to church on sundays, what you worship for?
[verse 2]
lie to me in my face
but why would you stab me in by back?
prolly ’cause you thought i was dead
i resurrected, i’m back, hoe
every time a bad b*tch call, my problems call me back, though
a lot of y’all n*ggas bit into my swag
prolly not dealing with that flow
a lot of y’all n*ggas sound like my son
shoulda been calling me dad*oh
rumor has it that i fell off
only thing i fell off was a basket
plug tried to send the bails off
i had to tell him, “don’t send it to the mansion”
your favorite rapper tried to steal the sauce
i got that n*gga stealing in the pantry
at times i forget i done made it
still got a million in the mansion
still tryna make ’em understand
lot of discretion but i gotta keep a country head
never sell my soul for a bunch of bread
[chorus]
15 thousand will get your partner knocked off
16 thousand for them styled, tailored car bombs
18, i was stealin’ mama’s money out her top drawer
i could not get knocked off
so, you know i had to grind
so my folks won’t have to work not more
still goin’ in, made a promise, we wouldn’t hurt no more
goin’ to church on sundays, what you worship for?
[outro]
you can’t run from the truth shawdy, you feel me?
i gotta be me, and f*ck what anybody else think man
i’m back to having fun on you n*ggas
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